The German South Polar Expedition (1901–03) was led by Erich von Drygalski,
professor of geography and geophysics at Berlin University, an Arctic investigator and glaciologist. His plan for the expedition profited from the fact that it coincided with a political impetus to seek national promotion (Lüdecke 1995a), and the German government funded the expedition with ‘considerably more than twice the amount voted by the British Government for the [contemporaneous] British expedition’ (Bruce 1901, p. 461). Drygalski’s plan, however, was from inception all about scientific inquiry into Antarctic geography, geomagnetism, meteorology, hydrography, geology and geomorphology.
Under Drygalski’s leadership, the composition and operations of the expedition were holistic, with staff brought into the planning early and given the responsibility of using their initiative (Savitt 2004). However, apart from zoologist-botanist Professor Ernst Vanhöffen, of Kiel University, who had been to Greenland with Drygalski and had also been on the Deep Sea Expedition, and Paul Björvik, an able seaman who had extensive Arctic experience, none of the other members of the expedition had
experience at high latitudes.
The purpose-built ship Gauss was ice-bound in the Davis Sea, as had been planned, though at just past 66°S latitude, not as far south as the plan. The expedition was consequently seen to suffer greatly in comparison to Robert Falcon Scott’s British National Antarctic Expedition (1901–04), which reached farthest south at 82° 17' S (Scott 1905). On arrival back in Cape Town from Antarctica, Drygalski was refused permission to return to Antarctica for a second phase of investigations. The expedition was felt to be a defeat by its supporters. Nevertheless, magnetic
21 The primary sources examined for this study are the published narrative by Drygalski (1904a, 1989), the expedition’s scientific results (Drygalski 1905–31), Drygalski’s article of 1903, his presentation to the Royal Geographical Society in 1904 and the subsequent discussion (Drygalski 1904b), an article by Albert Stehr (1903), manuscripts relating to the expedition’s photographic equipment held at the Leibniz Institute for Regional Geography, photographs reproduced in the aforementioned publications and in an article by Baschin (1901). Secondary sources about the expedition refer only superficially, if at all, to the work of photographers. An important exception is Müller’s 2009 chapter, ‘Photography and South Pole research in 1900’, which links the photographs to contemporary discourses.
73 observation posts were set up, meteorological records kept, and geological samples taken.
Figure 22 shows the expedition before departure, an informal photograph, very maritime in character, with the leaders wearing navy-like caps with the logo of the expedition ‘SPE’ (Südpolarexpedition).
Figure 22:German South-Polar Expedition 1901–03
Second seated row, directly behind front two men: Drygalski; to his right, Emil Philippi. (Source: Baschin 1901, after p. 38)
A number of expeditioners took photographs, including Vanhöffen and Hans Gazert, medical officer and bacteriologist (Drygalski 1989), but the expedition’s official photographer was Dr Emil Philippi, a geologist and chemist. For this reason, and due
74 to time constraints of the Master’s project, Philippi’s is the only work considered in this study. In his narrative of the expedition, Drygalski wrote that Philippi ‘evinced a particular interest and skill in photography, so that he … took over every aspect of this on the expedition, and it is thanks to him that we have a great number of excellent pictures’ (1989, p. 20).
Emil Philippi
Emil Philippi’s ‘ways of seeing’ in Antarctica were shaped by his science background. A young product of the German university system, Philippi (1871–1910) had got to know many scientific people in Germany and abroad (Drygalski 1904a) and already had a promising scientific reputation. He had spent time in Scotland on the study of deep-sea deposits with the former Challenger expeditioner Sir John Murray (Rowe 1983), and had published significant papers on geology.22 He was an assistant at the Royal Museum for Natural History at the University of Berlin (Baschin 1901) when selected for the South Polar expedition in 1901. He was unmarried, which was a requirement for all the scientists on the expedition (Murphy 2002), and he was recommended to Drygalski for his scientific skills and his ‘particular suitability for the expedition’ (Rack 2009, p. 112)—though primarily a geologist, he had skills in
oceanography and chemical analysis which would be useful.
He was also ‘full of character’ (Geologische Rundschau 1910, p. 56). In Drygalski’s narrative, Philippi is most often mentioned in connection with geology, but it is revealed that he had a keen sense of fun: ‘… [W]e celebrated Dr Bidlingmaier’s birthday, starting with an aubade, rendered in accordance with Dr Philippi’s principle that a musical offering can only serve its purpose if it causes the greatest degree of disturbance to all concerned’ (1989, p. 71). He apparently had an interest in poetry: Drygalski reported that, after arrival in Antarctica, ‘Philippi had already dropped his scheme of writing an epic poem, as he was finding all kinds of other things to do’ (p.
22 ‘Geology in the environs of Lecco und the Resegone Massif in Lombardy’ (1897), ‘Ischyodus suevicus
75 148). The poetic leanings, however, may have been another expression of Philippi’s sense of fun. Drygalski wrote that this humour kept them going through difficult times (1912).
Cheerfulness was an emotional norm deliberately cultivated on the expedition as a positive emotional disposition (Strange 2012). There are many examples of
expeditioners’ light-hearted original verse in the pages of the ‘Antarktisches Intelligenzblatt’, a humorous literary newsletter which was written and copied by hand (Lüdecke 1995b), and which sustained spirits especially during the winter. Drygalski’s narrative contains some of this verse; cheerful, situational, it may have been at least partly in response to the ‘geography of encroaching nihilism’ (Pyne 2004, p. 386) all around them. It is a schoolboy humour doubtless better appreciated by the expeditioners themselves than by later readers, but it does set a tone of lightness that is not echoed by the photography, which includes little in the way of shipboard distractions.23 There is a photograph by Philippi of Drygalski’s merry ‘christening’ as the ship crossed the equator (Drygalski 1904a, p. 109), and a small photograph of two serious-looking members of a music group (p. 373), photographer unidentified, but on the whole the photographs are quite staid. In line with the scientific method upon which the expedition was organised (Savitt 2004), Philippi focused on the external field of study, rather than interior emotions.24
Philippi was above all a hard-working geologist, making field trips in South Africa and on the island of St Paul as well as in Antarctica. He developed a strong work
relationship with Drygalski through their common passion for glaciology. Ice has been described as the fascination and leitmotiv of Drygalski’s life (Moerder-von Drygalski 1964).
23 There is nothing resembling the Antarctic Theatrical Company or the Nigger Minstrel Party on the contemporaneous Discovery Expedition. Scott’s 1905 edition of The voyage of the Discovery had photographs of both.
24 He was not the only photographer to have this focus. Frank Hurley’s film of Shackleton’s Endurance Expedition similarly omits the staged plays and singing competitions on the ice-bound ship (Fay 2011).
76
Figure 23:Dr Emil Philippi (Source: Drygalski 1904a, p. 29)
In an act of national promotion, Gauss was outfitted as far as possible by German suppliers, including the complete photographic equipment. The darkroom was fitted up with all the modern requirements of photography (Bruce 1901). This equipment is not listed in Drygalski’s account of the expedition (1904a), nor in the cost estimates presented in the introduction to the English version (Raraty 1989), but manuscripts held at the Leibniz Institute for Regional Geography show that Philippi was closely involved in its selection.
Notes on letters from the Carl Zeiss Company, of Jena, and A. Stegemann Fabrik, Berlin, suggest that the expedition obtained from Zeiss a 9 x 12 cm tripod camera with anastigmatic lens (to correct distortion), telephotographic equipment for a 13 x 18 cm camera, and a travel camera with all accessories from Stegemann. Zeiss also recommended its new Unar high speed lens for general use with hand cameras. The expedition procured equipment suitable for photogrammetry in order to take measurements using photographs. With regard to plates, much consideration was
77 given to aspects of polar light. The invoice from Aktien-Gesellschaft für Anilin-
Fabrikation (AGFA), Photographische Abtheilung, Berlin,listed Isolar and Ortho Isolar plates. Developer was obtained from J. Hauff & Co., Feuerbach, some of it gratis. The expedition also procured Secco film, advertised for very high light sensitivity, the water resistance of finished photographs, and the fact that there would be no haloes in photographs taken against the light (an annotation, ‘in snow and ice’, has been written on the brochure).25
Photographs used by Drygalski in his presentation at the Royal Geographical Society in 1904 were described in the ensuing discussion as ‘extremely interesting and very descriptive of the work done by the expedition’ (Drygalski 1904b, p. 150). However, Maurice Raraty, translator of the English edition of Drygalski’s narrative (1989), noted that the four hundred illustrations in the first edition, by Reimer, Berlin, were mostly of very poor reproduction quality, and the original plates were impossible to trace.26 Many were reproduced quite small. The images reproduced here, being from the Reimer edition, probably do not do justice to Philippi’s skills.
Expectations and reality
The expedition had been seen as ‘mark[ing] an era in the rapid development of the German Empire … the greatest geographical undertaking Germany has ever set her hand to’ (Bruce 1901, p. 466). The government saw it very much as an undertaking of national obligation (Lüdecke 1995a). Figure 24, one of a series of postcards issued
25
Information is from Leibniz Institute for Regional Geography, Archive for Geography, Drygalski manuscripts, 66/2. The Explorers’ Archives of the Institute received the entire original material of the
Gauss Expedition in the early 1930s (Reinhard 1934). A pdf of photography-related items held was provided to this study.
26
Some of the only surviving large format photographic prints from the expedition were auctioned by Christie’s in 2002. They were described as a folio of seven photographs: Gaussberg... 12 April 1902; Treibender Eisberg (Drifting iceberg), October 1902; Spur des Kaiserpinguins (Emperor penguin track) 8. October 1902; Ostrand der Eisfelder in dem Gauss 11 Monate eingescholssen war (Eastern end of the ice field in which Gauss was trapped for 11 months) 10 October 1902; Letzte Augenblicke einer Weddell-Robbe (Last moments of a Weddell seal), 10 February 1902; Eisberg, in der Mitte
durchgebrochen (Iceberg broken in the middle), 10 November 1902, gelatin silver prints 11 x 15in. mounted on grey card, each titled in ink below the images and signed 'Philippi phot.' (Invaluable 1986–2012).
78 before departure from Germany, promotes the expedition with images of Drygalski, the imperial flag, an icy expanse, and explorers in heroic pose beneath a spectacular aurora—discourses of nationalism and heroic adventure.
Figure 24: Postcard produced prior to expedition showing Drygalski and flag of the German Empire (Source: Gazert, Partenkirchen, Germany, reproduced in Lüdecke 2012)
Another postcard in the series gave the impression that the South Pole was the main aim of the expedition (Lüdecke 1995b). ‘South Polar’ was indeed in the expedition’s name, probably with the aim of trading on an interest that gripped the popular mind, but Drygalski himself had never envisaged attempting to reach the Pole (Drygalski 1904a). He repeatedly emphasised that the expedition took place not from motives of physical performance or to excite emotions, but for the benefit of science
(Lüdecke, Brogiato & Hönsch 2001). On return home he saw that ‘there were people ... with rather different views about the purpose and substance of our expedition from those that we held, demanding reports of dazzling feats, where we had merely
79 sought knowledge’ (Drygalski 1989, p. 372). There were complaints that the reports of the expedition did not sufficiently emphasise adventure and privation (Elzinga 2001). Drygalski acknowledged this absence in his narrative:
The lack of descriptions of perils and adventures has been frequently regretted, although we said nothing about them in order to concentrate on positive experiences, such as how to overcome events rather than fall victim to them. (1989, p. 372)
Other scientifically dedicated expedition leaders would share Drygalski’s cynicism about responses to their endeavours. William Speirs Bruce, who led the Scottish National Antarctic Expedition (1902–04) to the South Orkneys and Weddell Sea, later made the observation that
the mass of the public desire is pure sensationalism. Thereforethe Polar explorer who attains the highest latitude and who has the powers of making avivid picture of the difficulties and hardships involved will be regarded popularly as thehero ... while he whoplods on an unknown tract of land or sea and works in systematic and
monographic stylewill probably not have such worldly success. (Bruce 1911, p. 236)
Photographing for science
The German expedition set up a considerable scientific station on the ice and also undertook extended sledging journeys, Philippi and second officer Richard Vahsel managing to reach the mainland (Murphy 2002). Photographs were taken, as on other sledging journeys.
The expedition also photographed its aeronautical program, measuring air
temperature, pressure and humidity at various elevations with the aid of a balloon and kites (Lüdecke 1995a). The chief engineer, Albert Stehr, wrote a report on the balloon ascents (1903), which helped determine the Gauss research program, destinations for sledging journeys, and provided information about their probable best eventual escape route from the ice. The Discovery Expedition also used a balloon, making the first aerial flight in Antarctica six weeks before the Germans (Scott 1905).
80 The tethered balloons filled a transitional phase in polar exploration, between the failed Andrée attempt of 1897 and the uses of planes and dirigibles in the 1920s. The Germans’ hydrogen balloon, the aeronautic high technology of the time, had been provided by the Royal Prussian Airship Department. Equipped with a telephone, it was secured by a cable 1200 metres long, 60 metres west of the ice-bound ship. On a sunny, still day in March 1902, Drygalski ascended to 480 metres. In the afternoon there were two more ascents, the first with Captain Ruser, to 500 metres, the second with Philippi to 200 and 300 metres, when he took photographs from both altitudes (Stehr 1903). Drygalski, recognising the reader appeal of the balloon’s link to the technology euphoria widespread at the time (Müller 2009), later selected
photographs for his narrative: a photograph by Vanhöffen of the inflating of the balloon (1904a, p. 272), and two photographs taken from it, Philippi’s views from 300 metres (p. 273 and 256), the latter a close-up of the angular ice floes near the ship also visible in Figure 25, a photograph included in the scientific results, in the volume on meteorology. It seems a pity that the more general reader did not get to see Figure 25, which is a striking image.
81
Figure 25:Aerial view of the Gauss in the ice, 1902 (Photo: Philippi) (Source: Drygalski 1905-31, Bd. 3, Teil 1, Plate 1, after p. 337)
Aerial vision, looking precipitously downward at the ship, gives the ‘ship in the ice’ motif a new dimension. The grip of the ice, the power of nature, is made striking in the bird’s eye shot (Mamer 2009). The view conveys a paradox: the explorers were at once dominant, through aerial technology, and dominated, trapped by forces of nature. Their isolation is made to stand out sharply (Müller 2009).
Neither Drygalski’s nor Stehr’s account gives photography more than the briefest mention. Drygalski (1989, p. 158) wrote that Philippi ‘managed to take some fine photographs’ from the balloon, and also that expedition members on the ground all ‘had [their] duty to discharge, even if it were merely that of taking photographs’ (my emphasis).
82 The belief that polar exploration required mechanical solutions arose from
confidence in the role of mechanical technology in industrial and military progress (Robinson 2006; Cronin 2010). Intended for reconnaissance purposes and for taking temperature at different altitudes (Stehr 1903), the balloons did not assist much in the German or British exploration. The British scanned the icescape, but engineer Reginald Skelton’s diary records: ‘No signs of land … I am afraid as an assistance to exploration down here it has not been a success’ (Skelton & Wilson 2001, p. 54).
The photographs recall on the one hand the degree of international scientific
cooperation which followed the Sixth International Geographical Congress in London in 1895, but also the international political rivalries of the period. While Drygalski and Scott had agreed to a scientific collaboration with regard to meteorological and magnetic measurements (Lüdecke 2003), nationalism and international rivalries were inherent in the agencies which had supplied the balloons, the Royal Prussian Airship Department and the British War Office. A dozen years later, the two nations were at war.
Philippi took many photographs illustrating topography and wildlife. Though Scott’s second expedition photographer Herbert Ponting has been described as the
photographer who ‘helped establish what is now recognised as the Heroic Age aesthetic characterised by dramatic juxtapositions between human figures … and icescapes’ (Glasberg 2012, p. 91), some eight years before Ponting, Philippi was using similar juxtapositioning to create a sense of the vastness of icescapes (Figure 26). It is significant that Philippi used a group of penguins, not men, in his photograph. The
Gauss scientists were more interested in wildlife than in promoting the human aspects of the expedition, an attitude that would cost them when it came to appreciation back home.
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Figure 26:Iceberg on the western edge of the ice field (Photo: Philippi) (Source: Drygalski 1904a, p. 500)
Landscapes are both subjective ‘ways of seeing’, and social products, ‘the result of the collective transformation of nature’ (Pringle 1991, p. 43). Like the British, Germans experienced the sublime in polar landscapes, as evidenced in eighteenth and nineteenth century art.27 It is possible that Philippi also had a sensation of it in Antarctica when photographing scenes like the one in Figure 26. It features the iceberg motif and penguins, another symbol of Antarctica. But unlike Ponting, Philippi did not take many such photographs. The concentration in his published images is on scientific activity. ‘The scientist,’ writes Elzinga (2007), ‘has to peel away subjective impression.’ Philippi’s concentration on scientific observation may have been an aid, like the expedition’s cheerful verse, in coming to terms with the encroaching nihilism of the landscape (Pyne 2004), but he did not say.
27 For example, the work of painters such as Caspar David Friedrich (1774–1840), whose ‘Wanderer above the sea of fog’ (1818) and ‘Sea of Ice’ (1823–24) convey simultaneous senses of human mastery and insignificance in land- and icescape (Gaddis 2002).
84 Drygalski was appreciative of the beauty of ice landscapes. He described looking down a crevasse, seeing ‘the most magnificent formations of huge icicles, covered with pyramidal crystals, hanging down into fathomless depths, veritable marvels of beauty’ (1989, p. 179). He also made allusion in his narrative to emotional needs for visibly solid landmarks. Writing about the Gaussberg, he said that the mountain was
but a tiny spot in this desert, and yet how important for us, how fundamental to all the expedition’s experience! Here we really had rock beneath our feet, and could see the land that we could otherwise only guess at from the shape of the ice above it. The Gaussberg … was … a point of association between the South Polar Continent and the other regions of the earth, our life and its familiar images. (Drygalski 1989, p. 178)